


Detective with Benefits

by daveck



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-29 20:03:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12638172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daveck/pseuds/daveck
Summary: The Detective has a proposition for the Devil. He accepts, of course and now she's his - what? Detective with Benefits? But she doesn’t like to share, his detective, even if she's not willing to stake her claim on him.[No Spoilers. Shameless smut, really, that may lead to a plot. Eventually.]





	1. The Stakeout

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up some time around the start of season two but, honestly, no spoilers. Zero spoilers. Because, right now, there's pretty much zero plot. 
> 
> No BR, so I apologise for any mistakes. (If I figure out how to use Tumblr I may be able to track down a willing sacrifice.)

-

The rustle of his crisps packet is the only noise to break the silence as Lucifer meticulously folds it in half - and then in half again.

_Once more for posterity?_

His fingers are still fiddling with the corners, considering, when the detective reaches out blindly and snatches the empty bag from his grasp.

Lucifer’s brow furrows, his lips settling into a frown and he is _not pouting, thank you very much_ , he’s just - well, _perturbed._

“Sorry, did you want some, Detective?” He’d been quite willing to share, of course, but the delicious morsels of fat and salt had long since been finished.

“No.”

Well. Okay, so maybe he _is_ pouting. It’s just that they haven’t said a word in over thirty minutes - Lucifer’s kept count - and the detective won’t even let him switch the radio on.

The devil is _bored_.

Stakeouts are supposed to be more fun, aren't they?

Lucifer sighs quietly – that is, as loud and drawn out as he dares - and Chloe shoots him a look, her delicate eyebrow raised in question.

Finding whatever answer she’s seeking in his silence, a small smirk twists the corner of her lips. “Bored, Lucifer?”

Lucifer hums, unable to deny her claim but unwilling to admit she’s right.

“You knew tonight was going to be a waiting game,” Chloe reminds him, voice soft in the dark car. She’s still maintaining the pretence that they need to remain quiet, even though they’re _obviously_ miles from any sort of sentient life.

Hell, Lucifer didn’t know it was even _possible_ to be this far from another soul and still be in L.A.

The devil waves his hand, encompassing the entirety of the empty, dark parking lot and the bleak desolate warehouse it’s sat in front of. They’ve been surveilling the vast array of _nothingness_ for hours now. “There’s nobody here, Detective. This is a waste of time.”

“You’re probably right,” Chloe concedes.

He can hear the _but_ before she opens her mouth to tell him -

“But we haven’t had the all clear to return to base.”

“They’ve probably forgotten us,” Lucifer says. “Or assumed we perished from the boredom hours ago.”

“So you _are_ bored,” Chloe says. Her grin is a tad triumphant as she turns her gaze back to the dark shadows around the car. “And it’s work, Lucifer, it’s not a _waste of time_.”

_Nonsense._

“The rate things are going we have a greater chance of catching a cold than your suspect.” Lucifer lets a suggestive note creep into his voice. “You know, Detective, there are better ways we could be spending our time together.”

“After,” Chloe reminds him, eyes cutting back to his face.

And yes, that was their deal, wasn’t it? He's willing to wait for her - always - but -

There's a second, he knows, where she at least _considers_ because the detective licks her bottom lip as her gaze roams his torso - and lower - and it’s enough to send a jolt through each of his limbs.

Chloe’s eyes flick back across to the abandoned warehouse and silence reigns again as a dozen images dance their way across the devil’s brain - how _soon_ after, exactly? Would she let him have her, right here in the car?

Does he want that? A dirty fuck in the back seat? Or does he want to take his time? Watch her writhing underneath him in his bed, his dark sheets twisted in her hands?

No.

No, he’d like her on top tonight. In charge. The way her earlier promise had implied. Riding him, then.

In the bed?

On his lounge?

Oh.

No.

_Yes._

The Jacuzzi. Yes, definitely. He can already picture the droplets of water beading together and sliding down her skin-

Of course the detective notices the sudden trouble Lucifer has sitting still.

She’s smirking at him, the cheeky little nymph.

“Is _that_ the problem?” Chloe asks, voice low and honeyed. Smug. Teasing. “Impatient tonight, huh? Do you need a preview?”

_Yes._

She _won’t_ , he knows, strict as she is when it comes to her rules about _work_ and _sex_ and _sex-at-work_ , but he can’t resist goading her back. “Are you offering, darling?”

He expects a witty rebuff but there’s nothing - silence - and she _won’t_ , he knows, but then _she is,_  her right hand reaching across the space between them to settle over the rapidly growing tent in his trousers.

_Fuck._

Chloe presses her palm down, clever fingers squeezing him firmly and the simple touch is electric. But she’s still just toeing at the line she’s drawn in the sand, not quite crossing it until -

“Unzip your pants,” she says in a breath, stampeding across every boundary she’d set with the one simple command.

Lucifer doesn’t need to be asked twice. He’s quick to comply, the backs of his fingers brushing the detective’s as he deals, first with his belt and then trousers.

Chloe takes over once the button is undone, batting his hands away before slowly easing his zipper down.

And then her cold hand dips below his waistband, slipping between cloth to wrap around his heated flesh and Lucifer’s breath catches in his throat because _fuck, she really *is*._

“Up,” Chloe says, her eyes glued to the fabric concealing her wicked fingers.

Lucifer braces himself with his feet and lifts his hips, allowing the detective to tug both his trousers and boxers down. She stops when they’re just far enough to make it easy for her to free his cock.

There’s a gleam in her cobalt eyes, a devilish curve to her mouth - and doesn’t she wear that so _well_ \- as her teeth sink into her bottom lip. He can’t tear his eyes from her face as her clever, calloused fingers coax him to full readiness in dizzying speed.

Chloe's face glows in the dim light from the dashboard, like a beacon in the dark and Lucifer allows himself to stare. His eyes drink in the arch of her brow, they follow the jut of her high cheekbones and he lets his gaze trace curve of her nose down to the soft, thick fullness of her lips. She looks like - like every sin he’s ever wanted to commit.

When she notices his attention she grins, wicked, and twists her wrist in a way that makes his hips buck. Chloe likes it when she’s the centre of his focus, he knows - she doesn’t like to share, his detective, even if she won’t exactly stake her claim on him.  

She’s making no effort to draw this out, touching him exactly the way he likes - firm, sharp strokes, the twist of her thumb over the head of his cock - gathering his own leaking pre-cum to spread over his tight skin.

It’s rough and dirty, almost clumsy in the confines of the car, but _the detective’s hand is on his cock in the front seat of her police cruiser_ and the thought alone is so hot his brain almost whites out.

Lucifer can’t speak, can’t make a noise beyond his sharp, breathy exhales. He’s aware of just how loud his moan is when the detective’s eyes flick up to catch his and their gazes lock.

She’s enjoying this, she always enjoys having control, having power over him, and so help him, he enjoys letting her.

_Fuck._

He isn’t going to last.

A brief flicker of delight crosses Chloe’s face as she realizes how close he is and then she’s squeezing him - hard. Voice full of mirth she quips, “Didn’t know the preview would be over this quick.”

Lucifer grunts, not at all ashamed. He’s all too aware of the way the detective’s thighs are clenched and he knows what the subtle twitch of her legs means as she fights the urge to rub them together, to find a rhythm to create her own delicious friction.

“You like this, don’t you?” Chloe teases. “You like it when I break the rules?”

Lucifer can’t answer - hasn’t enough breath in his chest - but she pauses, waits. Right. Likes it when he’s loud, doesn’t she?

“Y-yes,” he stutters. “Fuck” And then, “I like it.”

Her hand starts moving again. Slowly. “Like what?”

He hisses her name - _Chloe_ \- and there must be enough desperation in his voice that she decides to be merciful.

“Maybe I like it too,” she confesses before she leans closer. He thinks she’s going to kiss him - _finally_ \- but she changes course. She veers south, down past his chest until Lucifer feels the hot exhale of her breath on his skin and then she - _fuck_ \- licks a long strip along the top of his cock.

And that’s it.

With a strangled shout, Lucifer’s head slams back into the headrest, eyes shut tight as lightning splinters his vision.

The devil comes hard, completely undone by a quick, dirty hand job in the front seat of Chloe’s car.

And he’s not ashamed. Not one fucking bit.

It takes a moment before his sight clears and when he looks down he notices the detective has tossed some napkins into his lap. She’s gleefully smug as she swipes her thumb across her lower lip. Dirty little minx.  

Lucifer wipes at the mess in his lap.

“Feel better?” Chloe teases.

“Much, thank you, darling,” Lucifer replies mollified when he’s only slightly out of breath. “You must let me reciprocate, of course.”

He reaches for her but stops when she shakes her head, his hands hovering mid-air between them.

“ _After_ ,” Chloe stresses, eyes darting around the dark carpark once more.

Lucifer nods, even though he isn’t sure she’ll actually follow through – this _is_ a night he’s never going to forget and so she has, technically, met her side of their bargain.

And it wouldn’t be the first time in the months since their _arrangement_ has started that the detective had her fun and then left him before he was ready for the night to end. Lucifer’s heart sinks when a quick glance at the clock confirms it’s early still, just gone midnight, and he remembers she’s used that excuse at least twice before - _plenty of time for him to find another companion_.

He could, if he were so inclined – he’s finding, however, more and more that he’s simply _not_.

(And no, thank you, he’s not willing to think about what that might mean.)

Chloe doesn’t look at him as he tucks himself away and straightens his clothes as best he can.

They each settle back into their previous positions, though his lounging is a touch more boneless now. The slight uptick that hangs on her lips is the only real indication that anything has even happened and it’s another twenty minutes - of silence - before the radio crackles and they’re free to take the rest of the night off.

The car roars to life in the dead carpark before Chloe guides them through the dark streets back towards his club.

Lucifer’s not sure how to ask if she’ll be accompanying him upstairs - he lets her set the pace this evening as he’s done with all the ones before it - and it’s not until she parks, tosses the keys to his valet, and follows him towards the lift to his penthouse that the devil feels some tension drain from his frame.

A smile, even, slips past his lips as he realises he’ll need to bathe before he makes good on the detective’s promise and that, of course, means he still has a decent shot at convincing her to join him in the Jacuzzi.

-

 


	2. Book Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, so, I suck. Sorry about the delay - between Life stomping all over my free time and a freak storm that wiped out my wifi (why did I decide to store documents in the cloud?!) I've only just gotten around to this update. (For anyone following my other stuff - it's coming, I promise.)
> 
> Once again, un-BR'd, so I apologise for any mistakes - I am in the market, though, if there's anyone willing to put up with my snail-like pace and neurotic editing.

The City of Angels twinkles up at him from beneath his feet, still humming with life though the chaos is muted this high above the streets. Even the noise, he muses, is dulled by the time the wind whips it up towards the lofty heights of his penthouse.

Content, Lucifer tips his head back, savouring the last drag of whiskey that’s left in his tumbler. It’s bold and smooth on his tongue, familiar yet refreshing as it slides down his throat.

Good. This is good. An adequate substitute for the evening he _had_ had planned.

The small lamp provides just enough illumination for Lucifer to read the words printed on the pages of the thick book he cradles.

For all their faults, the devil finds there’s certainly something worth savouring about humans and their ingenuity. Their ability to create something more, to imagine the fantastic and craft worlds of possibilities that lay beyond the mundane monotony of their lives? Well, he envies it.

This book - the last in a series - is far from his typical choice, but not a bad one, all things considered.

Who knew? The detective’s little hellspawn was onto something.

Flicking the page, Lucifer hums along to the soft music piping through the speakers and lets himself be carried along, once more, by the author’s flight of fancy.

“So these _are_ used for more than just decoration.”

Lucifer leaps from his chair, sliding the novel out of sight as he pulls his thin robe around him - like a shield - and turns to face the intru- “ _Detective_?”

Lucifer can feel his heart beating in his throat as his face rapidly heats.

Chloe laughs, eyes bright, clearly delighted at his reaction and Lucifer snaps his jaw closed with a click as he feels the hairs at the back of his neck bristle in indignation.

Wait- _what_?

Lucifer _clearly_ remembers a good half hour of complaining that the Douche cancelled his evening with the offspring. He remembers very well how she’d lamented having to give up her girls’ night and - isn’t she meant to be home, mothering her child, and not dressed in a barely-there-sparkly top and grinning at him like the cat who caught the canary?

Chloe’s still chortling and he’s the devil, thank you very much, he is most certainly _not_ going to be embarrassed at being caught drinking whiskey and reading in his underthings. No. Of course not. He’s simply not dressed to entertain. Especially when the creature gracing his proverbial doorstep is as stunning as the woman in front of him.

 _Not_ that the detective has ever complained about his choice of nightwear. Well - not recently, at any rate.

Lucifer tries to sound as dignified as he can as he readjusts his robe. What had she - oh, yes. “Everything here serves it’s intended purpose, Detective.”

Chloe snorts, a small smile lighting her face. “Even the pretty things?”

“ _Especially_ the pretty things.”

Chloe turns to run her fingers along the spines of the books adorning the walls, giving him a splendid view of the bared skin on her back as Lucifer resettles in his chair. Subtly, he slides the novel he’d been reading beneath a cushion.

The detective doesn’t seem to mind his state of undress and she isn’t hurrying him off to change. It’s not likely that they have a case on their hands so-

The devil’s lips quirk, as he allows himself to relax. A _social_ visit, then.

Chloe’s hand pauses over a particularly thick volume, fingers tracing the cyrillic lettering on the spine. “Can you actually read this?”  

“Some of it,” he concedes. “I wasn’t studious enough to become truly fluent.”

“Lucky for you someone released an illustrated edition of the Kama Sutra.” There’s a gleam in her eye and a teasing uptick to her lips as she turns to face him.

In a very good mood tonight, his detective.

“Lucky for _you_ ,” Lucifer corrects. “But I don’t need to read something I helped write, darling.”

She laughs then and something, bright and warmer than whiskey, settles in Lucifer’s chest.

“What _were_ you reading?”

Ah. Yes. Well. Time for a distraction.

“Nothing of importance,” Lucifer smiles, pouring as much of his wasted charm into his grin as he can manage. “May I fetch you a drink, detective?”

Chloe shakes her head but allows him to lead her to the bar as he pours himself a generous three fingers.

Taking a sip, the devil eyes the mischievous, happy woman over the rim of his glass.

“Made it to your tribal gathering after all, hmm?” Lucifer lets his eyes travel over her form, deliberately lingering on the long stretch of leg exposed by her tight skirt. “Or did you dress up just for me, detective?”

“You wish.”

“That I do,” the devil says with an inviting tilt of his head. And yeah, maybe he really _does_ but can anybody blame him? Honestly, just look at her.

She looks - well. _Delectable_.   

She’s visited him before, of course, after one of her nights out with the girls, but -

“It’s early still,” Lucifer says, knowing without needing to check. “And while you’re always welcome, darling, I have to wonder what brought you here. The girls weren’t enough for you tonight? Miss your favourite devil?”

“Dan’s parents flew in this afternoon,” Chloe says, eyes rolling even though her grin doesn’t dim. Stepping closer, she takes the tumbler from his hand, her thin fingers brushing his deliberately. “Surprise visit.”

“Oh.” Lucifer nods, not quite sure where the detective is leading but willing to follow along with any story that ends with her in his penthouse giving him _that_ look.

“They’ll be here all weekend,” she continues, placing the glass down on the bar before her fingers find his wrist and begin to slide up along his skin. “He had to cancel his shifts and he’s taking Trixie.”

“Poor chap,” Lucifer manages and - should the brush of her skin be so distracting?

“ _All_ weekend.”

“Ah.” And then - lightbulb. “ _Ah_.”

And he’s about to say something else - something remarkably witty - but then her lips are on his.

She’s tastes sweet, like cinnamon and spiced wine, and Lucifer hums his approval in his throat, pushing past her lips to explore the cavern of her mouth.

Chloe’s tongue meets his, clashing, playful, as her hand finds the back of his neck, nails scratching lightly. A free hand - his or hers, he isn’t quite sure - finds the knotted belt of his robe and then his bare chest is flush against the scratchy material of her shirt and the warm, soft curves underneath.

Lucifer doesn’t know if he bends or she leaps but they’re on the same level all of a sudden, his hands steadying on her thighs as her legs hitch around his waist.

She’s light in his arms, a live wire, hot and writhing as she nips at his lips and his jaw and he could carry her, easily, all the way to his bed but he sits her on the bar, intent on getting that gorgeous, _damned restrictive_ skirt out of the way _right now_.

Lucifer slides his palms along the skin of her thighs, inching the skirt higher - _up, up, up_ \- fingers dipping beneath fabric to find nothing but bare skin beneath.

Pulling back, Lucifer quirks an eyebrow. “Really, detective? It was _one_ time.”

“Once was enough,” she laughs.

“I offered to buy you a new pair,” Lucifer grumbles as he allows himself to be pulled back towards her kiss-swollen lips.

“Are you actually complaining?”

And _is_ he?

“No,” he concedes, sliding a palm back beneath the hem of her skirt to press against the naked flesh between her thighs. _Fuck_ , but he can feel how ready she is already.

Chloe’s breath hitches in his ear as she draws him closer. He follows, like a moth to a flame, hoping to be burned.

The air from her lungs escapes in a hiss as he seals his lips to her neck and teases her, first with one finger and then with two.

The detective’s hands twist in the material of his robe, pushing it from his shoulders, and he’s forced to step back from her to let it drop.

Lucifer pauses, lets the cool air twist between them. She’s vibrant in the dark, the silver of her shirt reflecting the light from the bar, pink lips aglow. Gorgeous.

And, _oh,_ how he wants her.

“Tell me, darling, what do you desire?” Lucifer asks - not as a trick, not as a game, but simply because he needs to.

Chloe grins, teeth sunk on her lip, wicked. She’ll play along, he knows, the promise of mischief in her eyes. “Your mouth.”

Lucifer can feel himself straining against his shorts because - _fuck yes -_ and, “Of course.”

He moves to lift her again, to pull her backwards with him towards his bed, but Chloe shakes her head, a hot palm against his chest to halt his movements. Her hands slide upwards then, to his shoulders, and she presses, urging him down.

Oh.

 _Oh._ Well. _Yes_. He can work with that.

Her eyes, when he catches them, are a little uncertain, and the devil grins. Found a kink, has he?

Delightful.

Lucifer drops to his knees and tugs her hips to the edge of the bar. His tongue wets his bottom lip and Chloe groans, hands tugging her skirt higher on her hips as her knees fall open to make room for him.  

He has to crane his neck but then she’s _right there_ in front of him and he wants to - _fuck does he want to -_  but he forces himself to take his time, to drop nibbling little kisses along her inner thighs until she’s squirming above him.

“Fuck. Lucifer, please.”

And, honestly, how can he deny a request like that?

With a last, lingering kiss to her hip the devil hooks her thighs over his shoulders. In one fluid motion he leans forward and pulls her hips towards him. She’s not quite on the edge of the bar then, supported more by the hands under her than anything else, but she doesn’t complain about the position, she just uses the leverage he’s given her to draw him closer.

Chloe arches her back, her palms flat on the counter behind her, hips thrust forward in invitation and Lucifer presses his lips to her. He parts her with his tongue and licks a long strip from her centre all the way up.

The heady musk of her floods his mouth and his groan echoes her own.

The fingers of one hand fist in his hair, her scratching nails just this side of painful as he catches her hooded clit and grazes it with his teeth.

She’s trembling above him, around him, as he alternates between long hard sucks and quick, light flicks, humming as he uses his tongue to trace the words he’s just read over her clit.

She likes it, he can tell, but the detective’s still holding herself back and that won’t do - _oh no, that’s not what he wants at all -_ he wants her to absolutely, _utterly_ lose control and so Lucifer uses his hands to encourage the roll of her hips, rocking her against his mouth as he moves down to press his tongue deep inside her.

And yes - _yes_ \- that’s it.

Her control splinters as he fucks her with his mouth, her fingers like a vice in his hair, twisting, pulling him closer still as her hips thrust against his tongue.

It’s not long before she’s close - oh so close - clenching and curling around him and Lucifer almost wishes he had a free hand to help coax her over the edge.

Instead, the devil curls his tongue, twists his neck to change the angle of his mouth, and then she’s calling out his name, the litany of curse words like a prayer on her lips as the hand in his hair disappears.

Lucifer tilts his head, tries to watch, but he only catches a glimpse as the detective’s hands find her breast, clever fingers pinching and twisting her nipples through the fabric of her shirt.

And then she’s shattering around him, fluttering and clenching and wild in his arms as she finds her release.

Lucifer lets her ride it out, his tongue flat and soothing as he moves back up to her clit - gentle, calming - until he feels her legs drop off his shoulders and then she’s standing in front of him, pulling him up.

His erection brushes her stomach as she leans up to kiss him, a sexy little sound escaping the back of her throat as their lips meet. And she’s -

Wait.

_Is she laughing?_

“Darling, now’s hardly the time for frivolities,” the devil complains, pressing himself more firmly against her hip.

Chloe doesn’t stop laughing, but she _does_ link their hands as she leads him back towards his bedroom.

“Did you-” she hiccups. Pauses. Tries again. “Did you really just _cast spells_ while you were going down on me?”

Lucifer freezes, feels his ears going red. “What?”

Chloe quirks her delicate eyebrow and he’s not sure, exactly, _how_ she manages to look stern as she questions him, half drunk and more-than-half naked in the doorway of his bedroom.

The facade cracks a moment later, replaced with another mischievous grin.

“Harry Potter,” she continues. “The _book you were reading_ earlier.”

_How did she-_

"The humming gave you away," Chloe answers his unspoken question.

Ah. Well damn. He supposes  _Expelliarmus_ has a certain unique tone to it, doesn't it? Still - time for another distraction, Lucifer decides, bending to sweep Chloe into his arms as she falls, once more, into delighted laughter.  

 

-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments are incredibly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a LONG time since I've written something like this. Like - eons. Honesty is appreciated.


End file.
